


Pacts

by fms_fangirl



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Childhood Friends, M/M, Male Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-22 23:20:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3747322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fms_fangirl/pseuds/fms_fangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A visit to one of their childhood haunts brings back many memories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pacts

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't really an underage story, but teenage sexual activity does take place.

_December 2014_

“We should have borrowed some bikes – made it really like old times,” Rhett chuckled as they followed a barely discernible, but well-remembered path between the trees. “Is something wrong?” he asked as the other man remained silent. “You agreed that it was a good idea.”

“It is a good idea,” Link answered. “The viewers will like it.” But he stayed stubbornly quiet, pushing low-hanging branches out of his way.

“You said Christy was okay with it,” Rhett persisted. “Did she change her mind?”

Link paused to swig from the water bottle hanging around his neck. “She wasn’t thrilled about me taking off for two days with you in the middle of our Christmas vacation, but she could see the sense. Getting pictures of places we hung out together is a great idea for the show sometime and who knows when we’ll both be in North Carolina again?”

“That’s what I told Jessie. Unless we made a special trip back, it could be another year before we got a chance to do this. Anyway, I thought it might be kind of fun – just the two of us. We haven’t done that in an awfully long time.” He zipped his jacket up even though it was really no colder in North Carolina than it had been when they left California.

“I know.” Link scuffed his hiking boots, sending up a pile of fallen beech leaves, “And to be honest, I was kind of relieved to get away for a day or two. Christy’s dad wants to take Lincoln hunting. I decided to keep out of that one. You gave me a great excuse,“ he added with a grin.

“Then what’s up?”

Link had howled with laughter that morning when Rhett produced a yellow plastic flower and had even posed shirtless as they duplicated their old photos as much as possible, but had become unusually quiet as they came closer to their final destination of the day. The trees had given way to a rocky clearing, scantily covered with Carolina rose and running cedar and an occasional blueberry bush. Bright red winterberries provided a rare splash of colour, but to the two men, accustomed now to the lush California landscape, the scene appeared sparse and drab. A concrete cylinder protruded from the ground.

“Not exactly an enchanted glade, is it?” Link commented sardonically. “I can just picture a fairy tale princess picking flowers here. Can’t you?”

“What is the matter with you?” Rhett demanded. “You’ve been… weird ever since we started out in this direction.” He carefully placed his backpack against the sewer and turned to confront Link.

Refusing to meet his eyes, he muttered, “You brought your kids here.”

“Of course I did! They’ve heard us talk about this spot for years. How could I not? And we talk about it on the show. It’s not like it’s some super-secret place that belongs only to us anymore.”

Link had dropped to a squat and was compulsively rooting among the stones, turning them over, picking one up for a closer look and tossing several away. “No, it isn’t,” he said so quietly Rhett could barely hear him. “It’s just a place,” he continued, his voice rising. “A pretty darned ugly place, in fact. Not a place that should mean anything to you or to me.”

“Wait just a minute!” Rhett squatted next to him. “You were the one who wouldn’t come back here after – after we were sixteen.” He glared at Link, who flushed and looked away. “And I remember every minute we spent here. Every single minute.”

_June 1985_

Link rode his bike as fast as he could, ignoring the jolts as it bumped over the deeply rutted dried mud when they left the road. Rhett was behind him; he could have overtaken him easily, but he seemed to understand that sometimes he needed to be – first. Eventually the trees grew too close together and the faint path they had discovered the week before became too thick with mud and fallen leaves. He leaned his bike against a tree and waited for Rhett.

He couldn’t quite describe it, but riding as fast as possible, speeding down hills and struggling up steep slopes helped make the feeling go away: that feeling like a ball somewhere in his chest that made it hard to breathe. When his lungs burned and his legs screamed from the effort of pushing his bike even harder he couldn’t hear the other kids laughing or calling him weird.

This was turning into a really crummy summer. His mother had to work all the time and his babysitter – how he hated that word—was strange. His dad hadn’t been able to make it out for his birthday either. Sure, he’d sent him a cool present, but what was the point of collecting and polishing rocks in the tumbler he’d sent when he wouldn’t be able to show any of them to him for months?

Rhett joined him and they make their way through the woods, laughing at the noise when their shoes squelched in the mud. “It sounds just like farts,” he giggled and they stomped harder into the muck, trying to make the noises louder. Finally, they reached an unexpected clearing among the trees.

“Whoa!” Rhett exclaimed, loping over to the cement object that jutted from the ground. “Cool! A sewer pipe. I bet we could pull the cover off and go down.” But even Rhett wasn’t tall enough to reach the steel rebar loop that served as a handle. Instead, he scrambled up to stand on it.

Link attempted the climb, but was too short to swing his leg high enough to gain purchase on the edge and fell to the ground, tearing a hole in his jeans and scraping his knee painfully. Blinking back tears, he limped to the edge of the clearing and began to throw stones at the trees.

“Hey Link,” Rhett had jumped down and followed him, “are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” he sighed, dropping the stones he held, “but my mom’s gonna be mad that I tore my pants.”

“We’ll stop at my place when we go back. Maybe my mom can fix your jeans and put a Band-Aid on your knee. Looks like you got your elbow, too.” Rhett pointed at Link’s raw elbow and badly scraped forearm.

“That didn’t happen just now,” Link muttered, staring at the ground.

“Did you fall off your bike?”

“No.”

Rhett plucked a blade of grass and held it between his thumbs, blowing through his cupped hands, and waited.

Link sighed again. Somehow, Rhett always knew when he wanted to say more. “I hate those guys!” he burst out. “John Carson and Brooks and the others. I don’t get it! I’m nice to them. Why do they pick on me?”

“Did John push you off your bike again?”

“Yeah.” He tried his best to hold back the tears, but swiped the back of his hand against his nose as he sniffled.

Rhett dug into his pocket and handed him a tattered tissue. “Well, I think he’s a creep. Anyway, who cares about those guys?” He awkwardly patted Link on the shoulder. “We’ll just never tell anyone about this place. And, sometime, we’ll get that cover off and go explore down there and no one else will ever know about it.”

“You wouldn’t come here with anyone else? Really?”

“Honest. I promise.”

“Swear?”

“You bet! Just like we swore to be best friends forever.”

Rhett extended his hand to Link, who took it and shook so vigorously they both dissolved into giggles.

“Best friends forever!” he laughed.

_December 2014_

“Does it really bother you that much that I brought my kids here?”

He could see the genuine worry on Rhett’s face. “I know it sounds dumb now, but we swore; we shook on it. I mean we never saw anyone else all the times we came here. It did seem like we were the only two who knew about it. Of course you’re going to bring your kids. I’m being an idiot.”

“No,” Rhett said as he stood, “you’re right. I should have talked to you about it. This spot is special. I guess ‘cause we talked about it on the show it was like it wasn’t so private anymore.”

“Sometimes I worry about that.” Link stood as well and caught Rhett’s gaze. “Sometimes I wonder if there’s anything left that belongs just to us.”

“I know what you mean.” He crossed the clearing to the pillar and pulled the camera from his backpack, “but I guess that’s the price we pay. The viewers love that stuff.”

“I know they do and I don’t mind sharing most of it, but there are times…” He climbed onto the column and grinned into the camera.

“There are some things we’ll never talk about,” Rhett said quietly. “There are some things we never have talked about. Not even with each other.”

“That’s right,” he snapped, jumping to the ground. He snatched the camera from Rhett and trained the lens on the other man.

“Maybe we should.”

Link squinted through the viewfinder, bringing Rhett’s face into extreme close-up, but took no pictures. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.” He could feel the flush rising up his neck and into his cheeks – heat that had nothing to do with the late afternoon sun.

“Perhaps it’s time.” He grasped Link’s arms, forcing him to lower the camera. His eyes locked with Link’s for a long moment. “Or maybe I’m being an idiot now,” he said, looking away. He slumped against the concrete. “It’s just that everything is changing. Stuff seems to be moving so fast all of a sudden.”

Relieved by the change of subject, Link put the camera back in its case. “Are you worried?”

“There are so many people depending on us now. So many people to please. We’ll never please all of them, I know, but – “

“It feels like some of them hate that we have sponsors. Some of them hate when we have guests. Half of them want us only to tell stories about when we were kids and the rest want us to eat gross stuff all the time.”

“And a tiny percentage just want us to shut up and kiss.”

“Yeah,” he replied uncomfortably, “and the others want Jen on camera with us all the time.”

“Christy wouldn’t like that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Link shot back, glaring up at Rhett.

“Come on! You read the comments.”

“That I flirt with her?” he shouted. “That’s ridiculous! I like Jen. Maybe I tease her a bit, but…” At a loss for words, he dwindled into silence and started fiddling with his wedding band.

“But you do!”

“Okay!” he yelled. “I’ll be more careful.”

“Good,” Rhett said, crossing his arms. “Something like that could hurt the show. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about it for a while.”

He hated it when Rhett took that father-knows-best attitude and it made him reckless. “Oh my!” he exclaimed in mock wonderment, “You do want to have all sorts of overdue conversations today.”

Rhett drew himself up to his full height, put his hands on his hips and leaned down so that their faces were inches apart – a gesture that he knew infuriated Link - and hissed, “Have you forgotten something else we shook on here; something else we swore?”

_May 1987_

Link closed his math book and carefully stowed it inside his backpack. All of his homework was done and the rest of the weekend was his, except the hour he would have to spend at church tomorrow. He knew it wasn’t right to wish he didn’t have to go every Sunday, but, sometimes, it was so boring.

He was hungry; lunch seemed an awful long time ago. He knew his mother would give him a snack if he asked, but he also knew that the cookies were gone and there wasn’t even a full row of crackers left in the box. Maybe a glass of water would help, he thought, heading to the kitchen.

His mother was in the sitting room, speaking on the phone. Link could tell she was upset as she exclaimed, “What do you mean you put the check in the mail yesterday? You swore you mailed it over a week ago.”

He tried to slip away, unnoticed. He hated hearing these conversations, but his mother beckoned him over. “Your father would like to say hello to you,” she said.

Link eagerly took the phone from her. “Hi Dad!” he called.

“Hello son. How are you doing?” his father replied.

“All right, I guess. Are you coming for my birthday this year?” He caught a glimpse of his mother’s face and wished he hadn’t asked that in front of her, but it had been months since his father had come to see him.

“Gosh! I wish I could,” he answered, “but I’m very busy right now. But don’t worry. I’ll make sure I send you a nice present.”

Link felt his heart sink, but managed to repress a sigh. “Oh sure. I built all the Lego sets you sent me. I really want to show them to you.”

“And I want to see them. Soon.”

“Okay Dad. I’ll talk to you later.” He handed the phone to his mother and went back to the kitchen. He could hear his mother end the conversation while he gulped down another glass of water.

“I’m sorry Link,” she said as she joined him. “I know you were hoping to see him soon.”

“It’s okay,” he said, determined not to show his disappointment. “I know he’s very busy.” He rinsed the glass and put it on the drainer. “Is it all right if I take my bike out for a while? I thought I might go see if Rhett wants to go riding.”

“Of course. Just be home by suppertime.” She tugged at his t-shirt, sighing, “You’re getting too big for this shirt, but you’re outgrowing everything. Maybe we’ll be able to get you some new clothes next week.”

She didn’t look like she believed it, Link thought as he rode toward Rhett’s house. He hated this shirt, but it was the biggest one he had that wasn’t reserved for school or church. All the others left a strip of his stomach bare and he couldn’t tell his mother that his feet hurt. His play sneakers were already too small and she’d only bought them two months ago. But that was nothing compared to the pain in his stomach when he thought about these things.

He parked his bike in Rhett’s driveway and knocked on the door. Mrs. McLaughlin invited him in, explaining that Rhett and his father had gone to run an errand, but would be home in a few minutes.

“Sit down,” she said, leading him into the kitchen. “Would you like a glass of milk and some cookies?”

“Yes please.” He hoped he didn’t sound too eager. He loved Rhett’s house, especially the kitchen. His own house was clean and comfortable enough, but this house always seemed happy. It felt like the sun was always shining in the kitchen and it smelled of good food. He nibbled at his Oreo cookie, trying to make it last as long as possible.

“Would you like another?”

“Don’t you need to save the rest for later? You know,” he added, “to make sure there’s enough to last.”

“Heavens!” she laughed. “I have plenty. Take another two or three if you like.”

But there was something in her expression that made Link uncomfortable, that made him feel sure he’d said something he shouldn’t. A sudden memory of his mother, scraping the last of the peanut butter from the jar while she muttered, “We might not have much, but we have our pride and we don’t take charity from anyone,” flashed before him.

“No thank you, Mrs. McLaughlin,” he said firmly. “Is it all right if I wait outside for Rhett?”

“Go ahead. I think I hear the car in the driveway now.”

Rhett sprang from the car just as he came outside. “Hey Link,” he called, “I’ll just go to the bathroom and then we can take off.” He rushed in past his father.

As Link sat on the front step he could hear voices through the screen door. “Honestly James, I know Sue does her best, but it’s just too bad.” He couldn’t hear what Rhett’s father said in reply, but his mother’s voice carried. “Pride is all very well, but it’s shameful. I swear that child is hungry!”

He could feel his face burning and his stomach clenched while he thought about how angry his mother would be if she knew. “I won’t have people feeling sorry for us.” She had told him that more than once and now Rhett’s parents were pitying him. Maybe Rhett and Cole had heard. Maybe they were feeling sorry for him too. He climbed onto his bike and began to pedal as fast as he could.

By the time Rhett caught up with him, Link was sitting near the sewer pipe, poking the ground with a stick.

“It’s hot,” he said, wiping his face with the back of his hand. “My mom gave me a couple of juice boxes. Want one?”

“No thanks.”

“You sure? It’s Ecto Cooler.” Rhett produced a box from his backpack.”

Refusing to look up, Link mumbled, “I said no thanks.”

“What about a cookie? I have a whole bunch of Oreos.”

“No.”

Rhett shrugged and dropped to the ground next to him. “We’ve gotta find a stick strong enough to lift up that lid sometime. We should look around for one. Or an old metal rod or something.” He finished his juice in a couple of gulps and proffered the plastic baggie of cookies to Link. “Here, have one.”

“I said I don’t want one,” Link shouted, jumping to his feet. “I’m not hungry and I don’t want any of your stupid cookies!” He marched across the clearing to the trees and began whacking their trunks with the stick.

He was hot and angry and thirsty. He loved Ecto Cooler; it was one of his favourite drinks, but now he couldn’t take it because that would be charity. He was confused; his pastor said pride was a sin and charity was a good thing, but his mom made it sound the other way around. He wondered if he could ask the pastor about it, but, thinking about how upset his mom would get, he knew that he couldn’t. Something else he couldn’t talk about; like the time he went to stay with his Nana for a week because there was a “problem” with the water that couldn’t be fixed until the beginning of the month his mom had said. Or when the phone was “broken” for two weeks.

He knew it was wrong to be mad at his mom or dad about these things, but he couldn’t help it sometimes and that just made his stomach hurt even more. He was no longer alone; Rhett was standing next to him, something in his outstretched hand.

“Hey Link! Look what I found! Do you know what it is?” He showed four stones, each about the size of his thumbnail, resting in his palm.

Link scooped them up for a closer look. “I’m not sure. I’d have to look them up in my rock book.” They were black with silver stripes running through them, unlike anything he had ever seen. “But they’re really cool looking.”

“You should put them in your tumbler. They’d probably come out really pretty.”

“I will,” Link said. “Thanks.” Now he felt even worse. Rhett was being nice to him and he’d been acting like a jerk.

“You know what would be really cool? If they turned out to be something fancy, worth lots of money.”

“But wouldn’t you want them back, if they were?”

“No stupid!” Rhett laughed, “I gave ‘em to you. Friends don’t ask for their presents back.”

No, they didn’t, Link thought. And friends don’t shout and act like idiots when someone is just being nice. And friends don’t lie to each other. He watched Rhett, who had picked up a stick and was peeling off its bark for several minutes.

“Rhett,” he finally asked, “do you think I’m poor?”

“What?”

“My mom and me. Do you think we’re poor?”

“That’s a weird question. I know your house is smaller than ours and your mom and dad are divorced and that kind of stuff, but you’re not poor. Not like some of the kids at school.”

“So you don’t feel sorry for me or anything?” Sometimes Rhett seemed to understand what he was really saying and Link could already feel the tension easing in his stomach.

“Heck no!” Rhett poked the toe of his shoe with the stick. “I know you feel bad that your dad’s not around and I’m sorry about that. I’m sorry that your mom has to work so hard and leave you with that creepy Miss Dean after school, but that’s not feeling sorry for you.”

“Really? You’re not just saying that?”

“Really,” he answered, tossing the stick aside and holding out his hand. “I swear. Let’s shake on it and let’s make a deal.”

“What kind of a deal?” He put his hand in Rhett’s.

“That we’ll never lie to each other when we’re here.”

“Deal,” Link agreed, pumping his hand. “You know, if those stones turned out to be worth a lot of money, I’d give you half of it.”

“You would? Really?”

“Course I would. Friends share.”

“Or maybe they’re the first ones anyone ever found and they’ll call them the Linkstones.”

“And put ‘em in a museum with a sign saying ‘Discovered by Rhett McLaughlin.’”

They both burst out laughing and ran back to the centre of the clearing. Rhett helped Link scramble to the top of the sewer pipe, where they stood, surveying their little kingdom.

“I’ve got a couple of cookies left,” Rhett said, jumping to the ground. “You sure you don’t want one?”

“Actually, yeah. I want one.” Link felt himself relax completely. It wasn’t charity to take a cookie from Rhett because they were friends. And friends share.

_December 2014_

Things improved shortly after that; the checks started arriving regularly and Link’s mom found a better job. Then Jimmy came on the scene; he was nice and funny and good to Link, but those months left their mark. Rhett teased him about being frugal and most people just thought he was cheap, but the memory of claiming he wasn’t hungry while his mother insisted on passing the last chicken leg from her plate to his had made him determined that his family would never be in that situation. And more than that: it had made him adept at masking the truth.

Except from Rhett.

They had stayed true to the pact they made that day. They might skirt around the facts in other situations, but, in the clearing, they shared nothing that wasn’t true. They discussed girls, Rhett’s resentment over his parents’ censorship of his music and television; they awkwardly described their first wet dreams to one another and their hopes for the future. Nowhere else did they share the same raw honesty as in this place.

Maybe that was why it was so difficult to come back, Link thought. There were things he still ached to share with Rhett. He took a deep breath. “Sometimes I worry.”

Rhett dropped his hands from his hips and straightened up to his full height. “About what?”

He remained silent for a minute, breathing deeply as the remembered scents of his youth: earth, molding leaves and wood smoke in the distance washed over him. “That I’m not as good a friend to you as I should be.”

“Why would you say that?” Rhett’s forehead creased and his eyes widened with amazement. “Are you letting some of the comments get to you again?”

“Not exactly,” he replied, forcing himself to look Rhett directly in the eye. “But some of them are true. Sometimes, I say things I shouldn’t – things that hurt your feelings. I can tell when we’re watching the show in post that I offended you and I know I should apologize, but…”

“It’s true,” Rhett said slowly, “sometimes you do cross the line, but I’ve never really thought that you meant to hurt me. It’s just-“

“And then I interrupt you all the time,” he broke in with a grin. “I’m not trying to step over you, but things pop into my head and I need to get them out. Usually, without thinking.”

“That’s the nature of the show. We don’t want to look rehearsed. And I know I say and do things that bother you as well, but I have never, not for a single minute, thought you weren’t a good friend. My best friend. And I was thinking…” An uncharacteristic blush crept up his cheeks as he continued, “You know how you were saying earlier that we don’t seem to have anything that belongs just to us anymore?”

“Yeah.”

“What if we find something? It doesn’t have to be anything huge. Even something as stupid as getting together for a couple of hours once a month and binging on some show on Netflix. But we don’t talk about it on the show.”

“Or find some class we could take together, like bread making or woodworking.”

“Or lapidary. You could dig out your old rock tumbler.”

“I’d like that,” Link said softly.

“Deal?” Rhett asked, extending his hand.

Link place his hand in Rhett’s. “Deal.”

They stood together, much as they had as boys, looking around the clearing, except one spot, under a large tree – that, their eyes skittered over.

Suddenly Rhett began to laugh. “What do you think we smelled like when we came out from down there?’

“I’d say it’s pretty obvious. What do you think we were hoping to find?”

“Alligators? Ninja Turtles? I don’t know. I guess it was just the idea of going somewhere we weren’t allowed. Doing something forbidden.”

“Yeah,” Link said as his gaze unwillingly followed Rhett’s to the spot under the tree.

_August 1994_

“I still can’t believe you wanted to ride our bikes here,” Link complained, pulling a bandana from his pocket to wipe the sweat from his face. “We could have taken your car and gone anywhere.”

“It’s been about a year since we’ve been here. And, if we’d taken the car, we couldn’t…” He dangled a plastic bag from one finger as he threw himself under the shade created by the spreading branches of an alder tree.

“True.” Link pulled off his sweat-soaked t-shirt and wadded it under his head, stretching out next to Rhett.

An hour later they were both dizzy from the unrelenting heat and light-headed from the forbidden six-pack of beer Rhett had somehow acquired.

“I don’t know how people can drink this stuff,” Link said, putting his empty can in the bag. “It tastes awful.”

“I guess you have to get used to it.”

“Well, I don’t think I’m gonna bother,” Link said. “And what are you staring at?” Rhett had propped himself up on one elbow and fixed his eyes on Link.

“You’re finally getting some hair, I noticed.” He poked him in the chest.

Link swatted his hand away. “In another year, I’ll probably have more than you.”

“If you take after your dad, you will.” He began to sputter with laughter. “Everyone will think you’re wearing a sweater at the pool.”

“Very funny,” Link grumbled, hauling himself to his feet. He made his way to the trees, tugging at the drawstring of his board shorts. He emptied his bladder with a groan of relief and walked unsteadily back to where Rhett lay. “You’re staring again,” he accused.

“I was just wondering how you found it in the middle of that bird’s nest,” Rhett giggled, pointing at his groin and the thick hair that showed over Link’s sloppily tied waistband.

“Better than you find yours, I bet,” he snorted. “Everyone knows all your inches are in your arms and legs.” He gave him a friendly shove as he lay back down, but couldn’t keep his eyes from wandering towards Rhett’s groin. He could feel Rhett shift closer to him and closed his eyes, heavy with warmth, dizzy from the beer and tingling with awareness of his friend’s hand, resting on his stomach.

It was over in a few minutes. They pulled up their shorts in silence and left the clearing. This time they made no pact, nor did they shake hands; this was something they both knew they could never speak of.

_December 2014_

“We were only sixteen,” Rhett muttered. “Still kids. It was-“

“An experiment!” Link broke in desperately. “Lots of kids do stuff like that. It doesn’t mean anything.” He shut his mouth abruptly, made quiet by Rhett’s expression.

“Do you ever think about it?”

He nodded slowly.

“Do you ever wish it could happen again?”

And, bound by the power of a promise made years ago, but unable to say the word, Link remained silent.


End file.
